


No More Running

by Asnazu



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cousin Incest, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asnazu/pseuds/Asnazu
Summary: Arya comes back from her travels after four years. What changed in her sister's life? And what about Gendry?
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 95





	1. Chapter 1

The Stark banner was shimmering above the Winterfell’s gate in the light spring breeze. Home, sweet home, she thought. She enjoyed her adventure, but the ship didn’t become her home. There were certain people in Westeros she could not leave behind, not for good. Not when she already lost so much. When she reached the gate, she was surprised that the guards recognized her, pointing her immediately to the where bounds of her sister. She found her in the sewing room with other women and girls.

“Hello, Sansa,” she said leaning on the doorframe. The redhead raised her head in confusion, there was only one person that called her by her name these days and certainly did not sound like that the last time she saw him.

“Arya!” a small squeak came from the Queen and she stood up abruptly to greet her sister, letting the leather jerkin she was working on fall to the ground.

“Whoa,” Arya’s eyes widened as she noticed her sister’s baby bump showing under her green dress. “You’ve got bigger than I remember you.”

“As if I do not know,” the Queen growled and caressed the bump while stepping closer to the smaller woman. In the next moment she squished her in her arms.

\------------------- 

“So you are pregnant.”

“Yes, but I am sure that that is not as exciting as your adventure. So tell me, how is the West?” Sansa said as she poured Arya a cup of wine and sat down on a chair in her solar.

“Oh, you would not believe it. It is glorious,” her eyes were glowing with awe. “I wrote everything down. We found an island where the grass was as white as milk and when the sun shone through it, you could see through. Only blue roses grew there and they were rasped by big red bees. Another island was occupied only by giant lizards and I mean giant lizards. Another one – “

“Mamma! Lady Maryon said – “ squeaky voice of a little girl interrupted Arya’s story. The girl who could be about two-and-half years old stopped abruptly as she rounded the corner noticing an unknown woman in her mother’s room. “Mamma?”

“Come here, darling,” Sansa beckoned the girl in blue dress closer, she wobbled to her mother and grasped her skirt while watching the other woman with suspicion. Her grey eyes meet Arya’s, she noticed that the girl had Sansa’s red hair, but Stark features, not so unlike of her own.

“Do you remember how I told you stories about your Aunt Arya that is away on a great adventure?” The girl nodded. “Well, she came home. This is her.”

“You Arya?” the girl asked.

“Yes, and what is your name?” the younger Stark smiled at her.

“I am Lyanna Stark,” she raised her head proudly, pointing to the wolf head on her dress.

“Nice to meet you, Lyanna. So tell me, where is your Father?”

“Papa is with Uncle Tormund.”

“We started trading business with the Free Folk beyond the Wall. Actually he should come back any moment now,” Sansa explained and raised Lyanna to sit on her legs

“And who exactly did you married?” Arya was curious about her brother-in-law. She wondered which man was able to gain Sansa’s trust.

“Oh, you are going to love him,” the Queen smiled mischievously. 

\--------------- 

“Your Grace,” Maester Wolkan appeared in the doorway, “the Prince has returned.”

“Thank you, Maester Wolkan. Did you hear, darling? Father is back.”

Lyanna jumped from her mother’s lap and sprinted ahead of the women, shouting “Papa!” the whole way down the corridor and into the yard. When Arya and Sansa rounded the corner she was already in the arms of a man who was standing with his back to them. He had dark brown hair tied up in a little bun and was wearing northern furred cloak.

“You’ve grown, Ladybug,” he was just telling his daughter and Arya could swear that she knew that voice. When he turned around she froze where she was standing, speechless. He came to Sansa with a smile and kissed her. When they parted and he lovingly caressed her sister’s belly while asking, how the littlest wolf is doing, Arya finally snapped out of her stunned silence.

“You married Jon?!” her high-pitched voice carried across the yard. Everyone in close proximity stopped doing whatever they were doing and curiously looked at the Stark family.

“Arya?! You are home!” Jon noticed her at least and came to hug her. When he stepped back, she turned to Sansa and asked again.

“You married Jon?”

“You have problem with that?” Sansa’s voice was colder that the harshest northern winter.

“No,” Arya shook her head.

“Good. Because as I recall, I did not say a word when you were having an affair with Gendry while he was still a bastard.”

“You … you knew?” Arya looked genuinely surprised.

“Of course I knew. I know about everything that is happening under my roof,” the Queen scoffed. 

\----------------

“You married Jon,” Arya stated as she walked with her sister back to her chambers.

“Yes,” Sansa smiled.

“How did that happen?”

“I guess it started with the pardon I gave him.”

“Bran agreed with that?” Arya raised her eyebrow.

“I didn’t ask. Not like it has anything to do with Bran. Jon was pardoned on behalf of the North and for the North. I guess if Jon went south of the Neck he would still be a criminal and a deserter on top of that,” she sighed. “But he made it explicitly known that he has no desire to go to the South ever again. And I am sure that Bran is aware that attacking my husband, the Prince of the North, could lead to war neither of us want. And honestly – I think he knew this would happen as we were making the deal.”

“Hmmm, probably,” Arya mumbled nodding. “What about the northern lords, how did they accepted that?”

“You are joking, right?” Sansa chuckled, “It was the easiest negotiation in my whole life. I have never seen so many people agree on one thing so quickly. Jon have never stopped being hero for them, they went to King’s Landing for him, they were willing to fight for him. In their eyes Jon never wavered in his loyalty to the North, everything he did from his coronation onwards was for the North. There were doubts for sure but they disappeared into nothing with his little speech after he returned with the Dragon Queen.”

“And I guess you never told them why he really bent the knee.”

“Of course not,” the redhead scoffed just as she was closing the door to her solar after Arya. “It was the very first thing I did. I was sending the raven with the pardon to the Wall still wearing my coronation dress. He didn’t immediately came back though. It took him six moons to abandon his exile beyond the Wall and return home and another three to move our relationship on another level. In secrecy at first of course, for for everyone he was still our father’s bastard.“ Arya made a noise of comprehension here and there as Sansa was speaking. “I offered him some positions in my council but he refused everything claiming that he was not worthy of any of it. You should have seen him, he was just moping around, helping in the smithy, in the stables, in the bloody kennels.”

“That sounds like Jon,” Arya chuckled, taking the goblet of wine Sansa was offering her.

“I couldn’t bare it. He has potential for so much more.”

“How did you managed to convince him to take position of power again?”

“Oh believe me, it was hard. But eventually we agreed that whatever he was doing is not fitting for the husband of a Queen. He refused to be my Master of War and Ships so I appointed him to the rank of Field Marshall.” Sansa sat down on a chair and caressed her belly out of habit. “And later when we decided that trade with the Free Folk could be beneficial economically and politically he was named Ambassador for the Northern Trade under the command of Master of Trade, Warne Manderly. And we made compromise on his official title, he refused to be called king, but agreed on prince under the condition that he will be known as Jon Stark.”

“I am curios, many men whom you could consider for position in your council, died in the war. Who is your Master of War?”

“Meera Reed,” Sansa smiled.

“Really?”

“You would be surprised. My council is consisted mostly of women. For obvious reasons you just said, but also because I looked for ability over a name a gender.”

“That’s good,” Arya nodded and the room fell into silence. Sansa watched her sister for a little while as she fidgeted slightly in the chair, drinking from the goblet occasionally but mostly just staring into it.

“Go ahead. Ask me.”

“What?” Arya raised her head, trying to look confused. Sansa saw through that immediately.

“Ask me what you really want to know,” the Queen dared her sister.

“How is he?” Arya whispered after a while, her voice small, almost like she was afraid of the answer.

“Good. He grew into that role really quickly. The start was hard for him, but I think he is good at it. People like him, he is firm when needed, but just. And he knows that if he ever needed I am just a raven away.”

“Thank you … for being there for him.” With that Arya felt silent once again. The redhead raised her eyebrow. Daring her to ask another question that was eating her. “Is he,” Arya gulped, “is he married?”

“No,” she smirked.

“Betrothed? Courting anyone?”

“No. Not for the lack of trying on women’s part though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well he is young, rich, powerful, skilled in craft, kind and handsome. Low-born women parade themselves around him, lords throw their daughters in his direction on every occasion. Still he refused every one of them.”

“Why?” this time the younger Stark looked really confused.

“Why do you think? He specifically says that the place by his side is in a shape of Daughter of the North who was forged by steel, winter and death. Sounds familiar?” Sansa tilted her head to the side.

“You think he is waiting for me?”

“Duh? I thought assassins were supposed to be clever,” she chuckled.


	2. Chapter 2

When Arya found him later that day, he was sharpening his sword in the Godswood. She remembered that he wasn’t really fond of her sneaking up on him so she made her presence known by making as much noise as she could when she approached him. He raised his head and put aside his sword.

“It took me a while to admit it to myself,” he confessed, “but I fell for Sansa the very moment she jumped into my arms at Castle Black. But it was wrong, we were siblings. So I tried so hard to forget and I took the first opportunity that occurred.”

“Daenerys,” Arya nodded knowingly as she sat down next to him. “I thought you loved her.”

“I thought that too,” Jon sighed. “But I didn’t, not really. At least I did not love her as much as I loved the idea of who she could be to me. I had some time to think about it – in the prison and beyond the Wall – and I came to realization that I was running. Running from my true feelings and I had no idea I was running into the wrong direction. When I found out who I was, what I’ve done …” he ran his hand through his hair, “I was disgusted with myself, because that was the only thing I was trying to avoid. I will always feel guilty for leading Daenerys on. She didn’t deserved that.”

“But you did not do it intentionally.”

“No, but I still did and I can’t get rid of the feeling that what happed was somehow my fault. That if I did not let her get attached to me in the first place, things could have been different.” He looked into the depths of the pond that was mirroring the red leaves of the weirwood tree and the blue sky above it as if it would offer him some answers.

“You don’t know that. She had it in her, it was always there, lurking in her conscience. Tyrion saw it, Sansa saw it, I saw it, so did you. Some people just did not want to admit it. It would happen, sooner or later. With her past and death of her dragon and Jorah and Misandeii sooner than later. It was not your fault.” He knew she was right, he heard that so many times, Tyrion, Davos, Sansa, they all told him that but still, he could not get rid of that guilty feeling entirely. Maybe he never will.

“If she had it in her, maybe so do I. What if I snap one day?” he whispered, fear evident in his voice.

“You won’t.”

“How can you know that?” Jon looked at his sister, his grey eyes pleading.

“Because you are … you. Not Aegon Targaryen, not Jon Snow or Stark, you are just Jon,” Arya laid her smaller hand on his forearm. “The most loving, honorable and forgiving person I know. If after everything you’ve gone through you did not gone mad, you never will. You will be okay.”

\-------------------------

The next day, Arya sat next to Jon at the feast they threw in celebration of her return.

“I thought about something you said before. About running. I think I might be running too. Not from Gendry, I know I love him, but from –” she thought about what she wanted to say next.

“The responsibility that comes with the title of Lady of Storm’s End? Marriage? Adulthood? The feeling that you will disappoint him?” Jon offered.

“Yeah, all of that.”

“Been there, done that. You have to toughen up. I promise it is worth it.” He looked over to where Sansa was dancing with their little daughter and smiled at the display.

“What if he does not take me back?” Arya whispered into her cup.

“There is only one way to find out, isn’t it? Talk to him, otherwise you will spend rest of your life wondering what could have been.”

“Is it what you did? Confronted Sansa about your feelings?”

Jon looked into the distance as he remembered that exact encounter.

_As Sansa left his room he slammed his hand to his forehead._

_“Stupid, stupid. You are a fucking idiot, Snow. How did you even come up with that? You are not going to woo woman like her babbling like a green boy. I am such an idiot,” he sat on his bed with a sigh hiding his face behind his hands. The clink of high heeled boots made him raise his head. Sansa stepped into his chambers once more._

_“Is there anything else I can do for you, your Grace?” Jon jumped from his bed to his feet._ Gods, I hope she did not hear me, that would be embarrassing. 

_“Yes, you can kiss me.” There was dead silence in the room after that._

_“What?!” Did he heard her right?_

_“You have heard me. Kiss me,” the look in her eyes was daring. “Isn’t that what you want?”_

_“Your Grace, I … My Queen …”_

_“Jon, stop babbling. Do you want to? Because I know I do,” she smiled at him. That made him move. He crossed the room in two quick strands, slammed the door behind her and caged her between his arms with her back to the heavy wood. She did not even flinch._

_“Are you messing with me, my Queen?” she could feel his warm breath on her cheek._

_“No.”_

_“Then my Queen’s wish is my command,” he said and pressed his lips to hers._

“Let’s just say that it was your sister that made the first move,” he explained to Arya with a smile. Leaving out all the details she surely did not want to know about her siblings.

“Hmm,” Arya mumbled as she looked around the room and nursed her cup of wine. “I guess this time it is my turn to act,” she said firmly and raised from her seat.

“What? Now?” Jon asked as she started to leave the Great Hall. She did not answer him and as soon as she left the room, Sansa was by his side wondering what it was about, leaving Lyanna dancing with her nanny Lady Maryon.

“I think Arya is going to Storm’s End,” Jon explained to confused Sansa as he started wrapping some food from the table into one of the less fancy tablecloths. 

“Now?” she raised her eyebrow.

“You know her. When she sets her mind on something…” he shrugged his shoulders.

They gathered Lyanna, excused themselves from the feast and went to the stables with the food. They found Arya clothed for a ride, reading her horse and tying her bag and blanket to the saddle.

“You are really leaving. Could you not wait? At least till morning.” Sansa asked.

“I would not be able to sleep anyway,” Arya shook her head with a smile as she secured the buckles. 

“It is not safe,” Sansa’s voice was almost pleading.

“Don’t worry, the thieves stay by the Kingsroad at night, I will not take the Kingsroad. And even if I did, all of them are afraid of dark. I am not,” she grinned at her sister.

“What about the wolves?”

“They will not attack me, not this time of year when they have enough food. You don’t have to worry about me, I can take care of myself.” 

“Wait! Can you make it to White Harbor in a week?”

“I suppose so, why?” Arya shrugged. 

“A merchant fleet will be sailing from White Harbor in seven days.” Sansa explained. “They will stop at King’s Landing, Storm’s End, Sunspear. They can take you with them. It will be quicker and safer than trying to cross almost whole Westeros by horse. Find Captain Harrin Dragen, he is the commander of the fleet and captain of its flag ship the Dawn.”

“Will he believe me?”

“I will send him a raven. And take this,” Sansa took a pin with direwolf head from her dress and gave it to her sister, “just to be sure.” It will be easier if Arya wore her family crest on her vest like every highborn man.

“Thank you,” Arya smiled at her and hugged her. “I will send you a raven from White Harbor and then from Storm’s End,” she said as she released her.

“Here,” Jon handed Arya something she could not really see in the dark. “Some food, water and money for the road. Take care, sister,” with that he also hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

“Where are you going?” Lyanna asked emerging from behind her mother’s skirt.

“You see, your mom found her prince,” Arya kneeled to be at the same level as her niece, “I am going to visit mine.”

“Who?”

“Do you remember Uncle Gendry?” the redhead offered.

“I like Uncle G, he is nice,” Lyanna nodded approvingly which made the adults laugh. “He is your prince?”

“I hope so,” Arya smiled and ruffled the girl’s hair. She tied the food and water to her saddle a hanged a quiver with arrows and a bow on her back.

“Oh and … Arya!” Jon called after her when she mounted her horse and started steering him to the gate, “no more running.”

“No more running,” she nodded with a smile and drove the horse out of the gate into the night.

“What was that about?” Sansa asked as the gate closed behind her sister.

“Just something we talked about, don’t worry about that. Let’s go to bed, my redheads,” he raised Lyanna into his arms, perched her on his hip, took Sansa’s hand and they returned to the castle.

\-------------------------

Gendry woke up, but he could not understand why. Nothing seemed out of ordinary, it was middle of the night and the castle was quiet as usually. But there had to be a reason why he was awake when he was so tired that he fell asleep the moment he hit the bed. Cold breeze with heavy taste of salt he already got used to caressed his bare back leaving goosebumps behind. _That_ was what was wrong. He did not left the window open. His instincts may kick back in slowly, but now he was sure he was no longer alone in his bedroom. He reached for the dagger under his pillow as casually as he could, trying to make it look like he was merely stretching in his sleep. Trying to figure out his next move he realized that he barred his door with heavy wooden crossbar before retiring to the bed. If anyone tried to break through his door he would be woken to a sound of splitting wood and that action would wake half of the castle as well. He was not alone but there was no danger. He let go of the dagger and snuggled up to his pillow.

“Close the window and come to bed, Arya,” he mumbled sleepily. 

“How did you know it was me?” came a female voice from the corner next to the window. He turned on his side just as she came out of the shadows.

“No one else will be crazy enough to climb up to my window that happens to be sixty five feet above a cliff that goes straight into the sea,” he reasoned and face planted back to his pillow. 

“Aye, that’s probably right,” she smiled, closed the window, came around the bed and put her weapons on the bedside table. Gendry closed his eyes while she was taking off her boots and undressing. “You know, you should not be able to be caught with your pants down. Literally,” she whispered as she crawled to him on the bed.

“I am not in a war camp, but in my own locked bedroom, I can do whatever bloody hell I want,” Gendry growled and blindly reached for Arya who laughed quietly. As she pressed herself to him, he felt her bare breasts against his own equally bare side.

“Do you not want to talk?” she asked as she ran her left hand through his black hair.

“Too tired. Sleep now, talk later,” he mumbled. He stroked her back, squeezed her bottom still clad in short linen breeches and raised her leg over his own bringing her closer. He was snoring by the next minute.


	3. Chapter 3

Gendry woke up slowly. He refused to open his eyes just yet as he had the most beautiful dream he did not want to give up just yet. Judging by the light behind his closed eyelids and the warmth on his skin from the sunrays it could be about two hours after the dawn. The castle was awoke but strangely quiet. _It was the rest day_ , he remembered. He liked those, he like the slowly, lazy days where everything that was not of immediate concern, like tending to animals, was left behind in favor of family and prayers. He could go down to smithy today, he could spend time with … Wait, something was not right. He dreamt of Arya last night but what if it wasn’t a dream? He opened his eyes, took a deep breath and looked at the other side of his bed. It was empty. _Of course it was empty_ , he thought as he reached for his pants that he left hanging from the pellet of his bed, _it always is_.

“You are bloody idiot, Waters. Of course she is not here,” he said to the empty room as he annoyingly put on his pants. _So much for quiet and carefree morning_. Suddenly he heard a quiet click from the solar, it sounded as if someone put a cup on a table. He looked around for his tunic, he was sure he left it there with his breeches, but it was nowhere in sight. There was another sound coming from the other room. He forgot the shirt and grabbed a sword he kept by his bed. As quietly as he could he tiptoed across the room, draw his sword and crossed the threshold.

And there she was, just slightly older than he remembered her. Sitting on a chair at the far end of the table, wearing his missing tunic, her bare feet popped upon the table, munching on what looked like the rest of his breakfast. The door behind her closed but the wooden crossbar standing by the door. 

“Arya! I 'aven’t dreamt it. You are really 'ere,” he smiled. Joy unknown filled his whole body. He laid the sword on the table. 

“Aye, I am,” her smile was radiant. He was drawn to her like a month to a flame. Halfway to her he realized he was moving and stopped. 

“I am glad you are alive and well,” he clenched and unclenched his fists trying to keep himself in line.

“So am I. I missed you,” she rose from her seat. The tunic fell almost to her knees, the V-neck of it showing a sliver of her skin almost to her navel for it was too big for her. What a captivating sight.

“I missed you too,” he said truthfully but made a step back, shaking his head.

“That’s all?”

“What were you expecting?”

“A hug? A kiss perhaps.” Her expression was hurt and disappointed. Gendry had this conversation in his mind thousand times and he knew what he wanted to say. He wanted nothing more than to embrace her and kiss her till the end of time. But he knew that for the sake of his own sanity he needed to stay his ground and say his piece. So he did. 

“You were the one who left remember?”

“I know … I just thought – “ she wrapped her hands around herself, looking so small and uncertain. 

“What?”

“I thought, that when … You did not marry,” she stated.

“No, I did not.”

“Why?”

“No one of them was the one,” he shrugged like it was the most obvious thing under the sun. “They were not you.”

“So you still love me then?” she whispered. There was hint of fear in her voice. 

“Arya,” he came closer to her and brushed his thumb across her cheek. “The amount of time that would take me to fall out of love with you doesn’t exist.”

“But?” she squared her jaw.

“But it is not that easy. It cannot be the way it was before. The time is different and so are we.” He dropped his hand and made a step back. “I can’t do that again unless I know we are on the same page. I just can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ya were gone for four years, Arya,” he ran hand through his black hair in frustration and started pacing the room. “Four bloody years! Do ya 'ave any idea wot i’ve been through?” 

She noticed that even though he learned to speak like a lord, he was still slipping back to his natural accent when he was happy, frustrated or angry. It reminded her of the Gendry she first met. 

"I loved you, I asked you to marry me and you refused. I gave you my heart and you crushed it to dust. The first few months I was so angry at you, at myself. I was drowning in self-pity. I was hurt – heartbroken and wounded pride … You left me here to deal with all this lord bullshit alone. I swear I wanted to 'ate ya, but no matter how much I tried, I wasn’t able to,” he turned his back to her, bracing himself by the window that was overlooking the steel grey waves that were breaking off on the cliff. _They always reminded him of Arya’s eyes_ , he thought to himself.

“But you looked so happy when you told me about your legitimization.”

Gendry turned around laughing unbelievably. “The only reason I was happy was because it meant I could be with you and no one could tell me otherwise.” The room felt silent for a moment.

“I know that there are no words that could explain how much sorry I am for hurting you like that. But you have to know that I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you. I left because I did. Because I do.”

“What?” It was Gendry’s turn to look confused.

“I had to go because I loved you. I wasn’t in the right place in my mind, I wasn’t a good person. If I had stayed, if I had married you … I – I would destroy us, I would break us beyond repair. I couldn’t do that to you.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Arya, I love you for you, not despite of everything you went through, but because of it. I knew who you were back then.”

“No, you didn’t,” she smiled sadly. “You just saw what I let you see. More than I let Jon or Sansa see, but still not enough.” This time it was her turn to pace the room as she looked for the right words. “You never really met the real Arya, she was dying already on that faithful, dreadful, sunny day in King’s Landing. She lost everything, everyone in a blink. With a swing of a sword, a slash of a knife, a thrust of a dagger, with swish of a black cloak and a click of golden cage I lost everyone and everything – my family, my home, my name. I was hurt and terrified and alone.”

“You were not alone.”

“Aye, I had you for a time. But even you couldn’t outshine the emptiness and pain, you just kept it a bay for a while.” At that moment when she looked at him Gendry thought he never saw so much tenderness in Arya’s eyes before. “And then with a click of a coin you were gone too. Lost and gone forever. After that I was truly alone. And I was afraid, hurt and angry. I was so angry for so long. For years I felt nothing but sorrow and white-burning rage. I had room in my heart for nothing else but revenge. Even when I came back and found out that Jon, Sansa and Bran were alive and that they broke out of their cages, even when I found you again, that darkness in me didn’t lifted, just slightly lightened.” 

He saw the sadness and emptiness in her eyes sometimes when she thought he was not looking. Now he knew what caused it. She was lost, but now she found her way back to him.

“I never thought I would survive the battle with the Night King, I never thought I would survive King’s Landing and to be honest I didn’t want to. If I crossed everyone of my list, I … I didn’t know how I could keep living. But then someone showed me that I shouldn’t waste my life on revenge. So I left to find myself and I was hoping that you will be here when I return, unmarried and willing to listen.”

“It’s good thing then that we are both stubborn as bulls, isn’t it?” he draw her to a hug, locking his arms around her small waist.

“Aye,” Arya chuckled into his bare chest, “it is indeed.”

“So did you?”

“Did I what?” she asked absentmindedly while drawing nonexistent patterns onto his back with her fingers.

“Found yourself?”

“Aye, I did. The West was marvelous. I saw unimaginable genuine beauty, I witnessed love and hate and death and birth. It helped me grieve properly and heal my mind, soul and heart. I put the revenge behind me, it doesn’t control me anymore. I’ve changed, I’ve grown in mind and heart.”

“That’s good.” He refused to let go of her just yet, after all those years when he could only imagine what it would feel like to held her again like this. 

“But that doesn’t mean everything is different. I’m still not suited for the life of a lady, I’m still sassy and I still can kill a man without breaking a sweat, just for you information,” she raised her head and looked up to him still not breaking the hug, not willing to part either.

“And I wouldn’t have any other way,” he smiled at her and kissed the crown of her head. “I meant what I said, I love you, always had and always will.”

“I love you too and I always did.”

“Even with the darkness?” Gendry mumbled.

“Yes, even then. It was small and buried, but it was always there. At first I loved you like a friend, a brother, because I didn’t know any other kind of love. But that day in Harrenhall, you stirred something in me and I never looked at you the same after that.”

“Harrenhall?” he looked down at her confused.

“The first time I saw you smithing, remember?” 

“Hmm,” he furrowed his brow trying to resurface that particular memory and then his eyes widened with realization, “oh. Weren’t you – you know too young for that?”

“Well,” she chuckled, ”how old were you when you first noticed that there are more things life has to offer?”

“Not much older,” he admitted.

“Would be surprised if you were,” Arya laughed. And how much he wished to hear that laugh again, how many times did he imagine it during the sleepless nights in the past eight years? It was that laugh that broke him, he could no longer hold himself back and kissed her. 

Then it was like the dam broke. They kissed each other with new found passion, it felt like they never left the Winterfell’s smithy. Gendry squeezed her buttocks and supported her body as she jumped up and curled her legs around his waist. He made few steps towards the table, sitting Arya on top of it as she fumbled blindly with laces on his breeches. 

“Arya – wait,” he murmured into the kiss.

“What is it?” she asked.

“We should take this slow,” he leaned his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes, “we had to rush the first time, but there is no need for it now.”

“Who would have thought that you would be so romantic,” she smirked.

“Oh, darling, romantic is my middle name,” he silenced her unbelieving chuckle with another kiss, “I might have an ulterior motive.”

“Ahh, and what that might be?” she kissed his neck.

“I have to tell you something.” She made noise of comprehension but didn’t stop her actions. Gendry pulled on the tucked up fabric of his own tunic she was still wearing, he slipped his hand underneath it and squeezed her waist. “Did Sansa told you that when I told my advisers that I would not marry, they did not forced the issue anymore?”

“Aye.”

“Did she tell you why?”

“No, she said it was not her story to tell. But is it really that important now?” she looked up to his face.

“Believe me it is. Well –“

Suddenly the door opened with bang. 

“Father! Father! Can we –“

The tension that spread through the room could be cut with a knife. Gendry froze, his hand clenched on Arya’s waist with more strength than he would normally allow and he was sure he would leave a bruise behind. But she didn’t feel that, her eyes were fixated on the little boy standing in the doorway who was gaping at them in confusion. That round face, those blue eyes, that unruly black hair, there was no doubt whose the boy was. Arya turned her head to Gendry, shock written over her face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this one was tricky to write, but so much fun. Hope you enjoyed it :)
> 
> Minor edit: I know that in the show Gendry doesn't really have some particular accent (I am not sure how it is in the books, I still did not finish the first one), but I think that it would be realistic if the common people had some accent while the high-born spoke with the proper Common Tongue/English. And even though Gendry had to learn how to speak like a Lord, you can't shake off twenty years of your life so easily. That is why I decided to give him some dialekt and took my inspiration from Cockney. First I considered going with Scottish English for it is more familiar to me, but for me the North was always based on Scotland so I reserve that for Jon and sometimes Arya (as you might have noticed she have incorporated Jon's "aye" as a nod to his importance and influence on her in their childhood :D)


End file.
